


Slasher Fanboy

by EerieKing



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Kink mentions, M/M, Stalking, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EerieKing/pseuds/EerieKing
Summary: Danny was a huge horror fan before he was a source of horror himself. When he glimpses a few famous faces in the Fog, he can't help but want to get involved.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Michael Myers, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/The Entity
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	Slasher Fanboy

**Author's Note:**

> This will have a few more parts with Michael, as well as a chapter with Freddy and probably Pyramid Head as well.

There was no way it was actually fucking Michael Myers. That was the phrase that stuck with Danny during his investigations. It couldn’t be him. The Michael Myers, Mr. Born Evil, the boogeyman himself, was an icon of the silver screen. Danny Johnson had grown up watching all the classic slasher flicks, including the one whose face he had borrowed for his own work, and he’d know that blank white mask anywhere. It wasn’t like the Trapper, who you could mistake for the famous Jason Voorhees only from behind. Whoever this guy was, he certainly looked the part. 

Danny had been convinced that it was someone who had taken on the image of the iconic killer to enjoy himself in the fog. Hell, if he had been that jacked, he might have picked Michael’s role for himself to play. It was a brilliant idea and hinted at the possibility of another slasher fan out here, so he started watching the other killer a little more intently. The Ghostface killer did a lot of watching in general, always because he enjoyed it. Watching the other killers work was fascinating, exciting even, and it kept him entertained. It wasn’t exactly as if the Entity had an internet hookup. 

However, the more he watched, the more Danny became convinced that this wasn’t some guy playing a role. Danny had seen the movies, more than once, and this was character acting on another level, if it was acting. He never spoke, not even to himself. He watched, stiff and staring, in the same way. He dressed exactly the same, he was built the same, and he seemed to see things he shouldn’t be able to. More than once, Danny had been well hidden on a perch, just observing, and the eyes shielded by that blank white mask had felt like they found him. The absolute weight of that stare to his hiding place had sent a spooked shiver up Danny’s spine every time. People just didn’t do that sort of shit to him.  
It kicked ass. 

The thing that really convinced him, however, was Laurie. He’d heard her name before he had seen her, as he often listened to the survivors whisper among each other while he stalked them. It was thrilling, to eavesdrop on the people who feared him. It was new, to be openly known as his persona, but it was no less exciting to have a victim peering paranoid around every corner. He crept up to one of the generators around the piles of smashed cars of the junkyard and there she was, in all her eighties final girl glory. Laurie fucking Strode. It was so much less likely for a survivor, who had to scrape and steal and hope to get by in the fog, to be playing dress up. 

He had chased her with a fucking mission then. When he slashed her with his knife, her pained noises were so familiar. When she hid from him and he grabbed her, the struggle against his gloved hands was thrilling. And when he hooked her? Well, she was a scream queen for a reason. He couldn’t even really be mad when she jammed a piece of broken auto glass into his back when he picked her up. The gleam of his blood in the glass when he pulled from where it had lodged had kind of made him feel alive.  
Little did he know then she’d teach every fucking idiot to try to stand their ground against him. It’d never have quite the same charm from someone else.

All of that evidence sent him creeping out of his version of the killer shack, well modified with gifts from the Entity and hidden in the shifting woods, to go figure out where it was his benefactor kept the legendary Michael Myers. Danny had a pretty good handle on how to physically get to the other little pockets where he sometimes hunted, and when he got turned around all he had to do was listen. The Entity was more than willing to play red light, green light with its creaking whispers with him. A perk of being a favorite of an eldritch monstrosity, he supposed.

Navigating out here was really a matter of time and patience. He knew how to stay well away from the few that were distinctly unfriendly. The creature in the swamp seemed just as willing to gut and eat him as the survivors and the doctor’s manic laugh rang in his head when he stepped into the hospital regardless of whether he snuck in or not. Hell, he even had to be careful stepping past the threshold of the Trapper’s estate, because every bit of grass might have jaws and the girl in the meatpacking plant seemed to mind any company way more than she minded the rot. 

Listening and not exactly looking, Danny almost ran smack into a white wooden picket fence. The whispering of the Entity of his mind took an amused tone. He rolled his eyes under the screaming mask at it. “Could’ve said something.” Danny snarked at the voice and the noise in his mind pulled back. Clearly, he was in the right place. He hefted himself over a trellis in the fence and crept out between well-manicured hedges. When he stepped onto the street, he literally felt butterflies in his stomach.

Even twisted like this, there was no mistaking this chunk of Haddonfield, Illinois. It was like stepping onto a warped movie set. Some gritty reboot, maybe. The franchise was probably about due. Maybe it’d already happened in the time since he’s been here. He had no way of telling how long it had been. 

The sound of steady footsteps on the pavement caught Danny’s attention and then he saw him, a living image of how he was in that first film. The shape was walking away from Danny and towards the shuttered house famous from the film. Michael Myers was a big sturdy dude on screen, and he was more so in person, even from behind. Everyone got a bit warped when they got put in the fog, but this dude had six inches on Danny easy, and that’s just height. Built, broad shoulders, and a big fucking knife was basically Danny’s version of tall, dark, and handsome. The desire to be absolutely bench pressed by this guy kindled in Danny’s stomach. 

Danny stepped out onto the pavement and when he did, he watched Michael freeze in place. Yet again, it was almost like the other killer knew Danny was there, even if he hadn’t done a thing to reveal himself. It was weird for Danny. People didn’t just know he was around. He stalked people for months without a trace. He was a fucking professional. That step didn’t make a single sound, and yet, Michael noticed something. Not something threatening, it seemed, because he started walking away again, towards the twisted version of his childhood home. Unwilling to let this legend leave, Danny took a few quick steps to close the gap between them a bit. 

“You’re Michael Myers, aren’t you?” Danny ventured, hoping to stop the other. It’s not like he wanted to surprise a notably armed killer by doing something stupid like tapping him on the shoulder, but he wanted to announce his presence. 

The bigger man’s shoulder’s stiffened and he stopped walking. Slowly, he turned to face Danny, with the signature blank white mask hiding eyes that must be fixed on him. Considering the famously unshakeable nature of the killer, he was going to take making any sort of impact on Michael as an acknowledgement. He couldn’t fucking believe he had even glimpsed this slasher icon in the woods, let alone that he was currently talking to the guy. Or, talking at the guy, he supposed. 

“I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I figured you could tell, and you hadn’t jumped me yet. You notice people, like I do, right?” There was no response from the iconic killer, who just stared him down. He could feel himself being watched and it sent a tingle up his spine. Danny wondered if that was how his victims felt, this same heavy feeling of eyes on them, and it thrilled him. He reached up and pulled off his screaming mask, pushing the hood back off of his curly brown hair. He wanted to show Michael that he was just a guy. So many of their fellow killers were monsters in one way or another. 

Finally, after a long pause of just staring at Danny in quiet and Danny not making a move to run, Michael made a few gestures in front of his chest. The Ghostface killer stared for a moment before the gears in his mind clicked into place. Oh, shit. Of course. Michael spent fifteen years in a fucking asylum not saying a word. Someone taught him sign language to try to get through to him. Damn it. 

“Sorry, dude, Unfortunately, I had an American public-school education. I didn’t learn to sign.” He sure fucking wished he had picked up an extracurricular right now. It was almost embarrassing to not be able to understand. He had the opportunity to be the first person ever to actually talk to Michael Myers since he stabbed his sister at six years old. The journalist in him was going wild. 

There was a long pause between them, Michael’s hands staying in front of his chest for some of it before he dropped them to his sides. Danny could almost feel the disinterest radiating off of the other killer. Almost like there was no reason to bother with Danny if he weren’t a target and he couldn’t understand. After staring a little longer, Michael turned back towards the infamous house and began to walk away. Danny could feel his chance slipping away. His mind raced to see what he could come up with that might catch the attention of the notably single-minded Michael Myers.

“Wait, wait. You can still understand me, though, right?” Danny managed, feeling dumb immediately. He knew Michael could, he just had to get it out that he wanted to keep talking. Nothing he could say immediately felt like it was interesting enough. 

Michael stopped mid stride and looked back over his shoulder at the unmasked killer. Danny could have sworn he saw the barest bit of a nod, and Michael definitely paused, so he kept talking.

“I’m a big fan.” Danny blurted out. It was true and was at the forefront of his mind the entire time he was investigating Michael’s existence. Movies like Halloween, like Friday the Thirteenth, like Nightmare on Elm Street before they got really goofy, they were some of Danny’s first realizations as a kid that there was something in him wired wrong. The stalking in Halloween especially had a particular appeal to him, and the stabbing as well. It woke something up in young Danny- something dark that he fed later in life with following, stalking, home invasion, and eventually murder.

Michael tilted his head to one side and then back while watching Danny. Slowly, his hands came up and he made a gesture like a very stereotypical “I don’t know.” Any form of engagement was a good sign. Maybe that didn’t make sense? Of course, it didn’t. If Michael came from a place in space and time where the events of Halloween weren’t a movie, no one really would know his name or face. Or mask, Danny supposed. He could make it make sense. He was, after all, a writer by trade. Well, one of his trades.  
“I did a lot of research into your case. About what happened with your sister Judith. And with Laurie. She’s your sister too, right? It wasn’t exactly…clear.” 

That did it. The names of his obsessions clicked Michael into engaging. He had figured that would be part of how the big guy ticked. He turned to face Danny fully and gave a small nod. Danny broke into a smile at the response and chewed a bit on his bottom lip. He had so many questions for this man who helped him realize what was fucked up about him.  
“Does it feel good to kill her here?” Danny’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone he didn’t intend. He didn’t get to have these conversations with other killers. Life wasn’t some trashy crime show where they were all in some league together. He’d literally never spoken to another murderer before coming here, and no one here ever had much to say. Well, except the Legion, but those four were so up each other’s asses it wasn’t funny. “She can’t get away for real here.”

In response, he got the first real nod out of the Michael Myers. His grin widened. Oh, hell yes. A real reaction. That felt like such a victory. Sparks shot up and down Danny’s spine, hinting at details of killing with Michael feeling as intimate and risqué as implying the dirty details of a hookup while flirting with his potential next one. Danny’s dick seemed to feel the same, as he was way too aware of it right now. 

“I miss it being final, I’m not gonna lie, but the idea of getting a do-over if I got a bad shot is fucking hot. I get to feel them dread it being me out there in a trial, you know? You probably get to feel that a lot, what with Laurie being pretty sturdy, yeah? I love them looking over their shoulders for me. And being able to put a knife in them when they look away.” Danny rattled on, and Michael’s attention was stuck on him now. Even knowing that the other killer was looking, Danny could feel the weight more than see it. It made him more willing to talk, to some reason. He could almost feel the interest he had caught and that felt good. 

“You’re a knife guy too.” Danny said with a slick grin, “I experimented in the beginning, but it just feels best to be up close and personal.“ Danny was used to the sound of his own voice winding himself up, he was no stranger to dirty talk for his own benefit, but this was ridiculous. He was half-hard already and he was the only one talking. “I love leaving holes in people.”  
Danny could see Michael listening. He had to guess that no one had talked to him like this. He was going to guess that no one really talked to Michael at all. Danny was more than willing to be company, in more than one way. 

“Speaking of experimenting, I gotta say, it’d be a fucking honor to suck your dick.” Danny’s strength in subtly was all exercised in his stalking. His flirting was so much blunter. Michael’s stance stiffened, and he tilted his head slightly to the right side. “I totally mean it. You can even get rough.” Danny didn’t like pain much, but he’d do anything to convince Michael to let him get his hands on him. He was built like a brick house, he was a goddamn legend, and the Entity’s voyeurism notwithstanding, Danny hadn’t hooked up with anyone since he stepped into the fog. It was like the one thing that was missing from this place. He wanted to touch someone else, someone fucked up like him.

Then, Michael hesitated. He didn’t seem as if he needed a moment to think during their entire interaction, just waiting for Danny to continue, interested in his own way. This time, he stood in silence with the other killer for a few more moments. Michael’s hands went up as if he were going to try to sign again but put them back down as if he remembered that Danny wouldn’t get it. Michael didn’t have to worry. Danny would have to spitball to fill in the gaps. He was more than happy to hear his own voice.

“You know what I mean, yeah?” A slight nod from the otherwise motionless shape. Okay, cool. That’s something. 

“You…ever had someone do that?” Michael slowly shook his head no, for the first time. Oh shit, no wonder there was hesitation there. 

“You ever touch yourself?” Danny had to say, he liked to think about Michael jerking off. However, the other killer had some hesitation and then gave a small shrug, just of the shoulders this time. Michael indicated upward, toward the corrupted sky of this bit of Haddonfield.

“Maybe, since you’ve been here?” Danny certainly had been masturbating like a maniac to photographs both old and new since he got here. “Can’t imagine the hospital would have been cool about that. Not in the seventies I bet.” Michael tilted his head to the other side again, a little more this time. 

“I know you were in a hospital, yeah. Fucked up of them to put you away like that, huh? To make you wait that long to get back to Haddonfield? Probably really boring, right?” Michael gave him another real nod this time, slow and deliberate, but a real movement. Boredom must be an absolute plague to Myers, who worked like a machine. Being right in his conjecture felt great. 

“And fuck that Doctor Loomis too, right? Getting in the way?” Michael gave him another real nod and took a step towards him. “I told you, I’m a big fan. I know a lot about you.” Danny’s grip tightened on his mask. He was very aware of the fact that Michael was still carrying his knife and he didn’t know exactly how the guy ticked, but it wasn’t unlikely that shoving that knife in Danny’s guts might feel as good as sex, not with the way Danny knew he himself worked, and how other monsters like him worked. 

“I don’t think you should ever be locked up.” Danny’s smile was wicked. “I think you should be able rip up whoever you want.” A pang of arousal rang through him when he said the word ‘rip’. His mind was full of blood and bodies, and he wished that he could get verbal response from Michael that he wasn’t wasting the other killer’s time. He had seemed interested enough.

Michael’s attention was still on the Ghostface killer, but there was a difference in the air between them. There was holdover of that hesitation and some stiffness remaining in Michael’s posture. Danny had keyed into some of his nonverbal cues already, with the practiced eye of someone whose passion was stalking others. He wondered if he had been too personal if he was asking too much of the other. Danny was, self admittedly, a pretty easy lay, and he was already riled up just by Michael being willing to listen and confirm a few fucked up things. Still, he wasn’t an asshole – Michael was a peer, not prey.

“You don’t have to decide right now. Just like, keep it in mind, yeah? It’d be a fucking honor to touch you.” Michael gaze was unwavering. Danny very much felt like he was being taken in. The gears in his mind spun, trying to figure out what leverage he had to keep Michael interested. The words tumbled out of Danny’s mouth right as his brain put them together. “Can I prove I mean it? Kill me. I won’t even struggle. That’d be a new experience, right? Someone not fighting back?” Danny had a moment to regret letting his dick to the talking before things escalated quickly.

All at once, Michael dropped his knife. It clattered to the pavement and was forgotten as the shape closed the gap between them. Michael Myers had been still most of the time, little movements as cues rather than anything else, but with that offer he practically blurred into motion. A big, strong hand gripped Danny’s shoulder as he can catch just the barest glimpse of hungry eyes through the eye holes of Michael’s mask. Then, the other hand closed around Danny’s throat. Michael’s grip was unreal. 

In that moment, Danny almost forgot the dumbass promise he made not to struggle. It sure was a thing to offer, just to get a guy’s hands on you. His mask slipped out of his hands and his leather gloved fingers tried to find purchase against the hand slowly tightening to crush his airway. Consciously, fighting every human instinct to struggle to for air, Danny let his hands rest against Michael’s hands instead. As soon as he did, he could feel the hand on his throat squeeze tighter, an acknowledgement of Danny’s compliance. He choked out a gasp as Michael’s grip tightened like a machine vise.

He’d fucked around with autoerotic breath play shit when he was young and trying to figure out what got him off, so he was familiar with the light headed dizziness and the throb of his cock, but it was nothing like this. This hurt a hell of a lot more, stirring a primal fear in him that he didn’t know was there. This experience was all adrenaline and strong hands, terrifying and thrilling. The sick grin finally slid off of Danny’s face, replaced by a grimace of pain and struggle. 

Danny’s air-deprived brain swam as it tried to piece together thoughts that seemed to just miss. He never seemed to stop learning about fucked up things that got him hard, it seems. He would have giggled if he could breathe. He was vague aware of Michael’s breathing getting heavy and unsteady as spots blinked in his vision. Oh cute, Danny’s brain managed stupidly, Michael’s hot for it too. The last of his breath slipped out of him and the other killer- his killer now- tightened his grip yet again. Danny’s lungs burning as he tried to draw breath that wouldn’t come. He was vaguely aware of something creaking in his throat under Michael’s palm, of pain that felt distant, and then Danny blacked out.

Danny sucked in a breath all at once when he came to, collapse on the rough wooden floor of his hideout, and immediately regretted it. He exploded into a coughing fit, his chest aching and his throat raw. He rolled onto his side to try to ease the pain and took slow, shallow breaths when the coughing passed. Slowly, the pain faded to something tolerable and he started to become aware of his surroundings. It was dark, and it was foggy. The door was open a crack and a cool, damp breeze rolled in. He was back home, taken there by the intervention of the Entity no doubt. He hadn’t been awake long enough for it to pull the damp, oppressive Florida heat from his memory. A small mercy, he guessed. His mask lay across the floor from him and Danny reached for it, pulling it back to his aching chest. 

He heard the creaking of the Entity in his mind, its tone hard to discern. Danny closed hazel eyes to listen, to really pay attention to his benefactor as it ‘spoke’. It was confused, a familiar confusion to the first time it had observed him jerking off. He’d realizing in his time here that it didn’t understand a lot of human impulses and ‘horny’ was one of them. Along with ‘self-sacrifice’. Danny was with it on that last one, usually, and that seems to be what confused it. He had to peel his eyes open, the darkness behind his eyelids being very welcoming at the moment.

“You’re confused because it was stupid of me to do.” Danny carefully got off of the floor, feeling sore, exhausted, and vaguely unsatisfied. He shut the door to his hideout, closing off the breeze just in case it decided to get swampy out there like it often did around him and headed to the basement. The whispering took on a tone of understanding. Ah, it seemed to say, I thought so. 

The basement of his own killer shack was where Danny lived in this place. His walls were plastered with photos, sorted by survivor, of them being stalked, injured, and killed. Being favored by the Entity had its perks, and Danny had basically all he could ask for that didn’t require network TV or the internet. He unbuckled his shroud, dropping the leather outer layer onto a chair, and kicked off his shoes. He collapsed in his bed, white tank top and pants still on. He was too tired to take off more. Apparently, dying took it out of you. He did die, didn’t he?

The creaking in his mind confirmed it and probed at him curiously, leaving the impression of asking why in its wake. Danny snorted a laugh, then coughed again, his hand going to his chest and the ache still there from spasming for breath before his death. How do you explain to an eldritch monstrosity that you want a movie star serial killer to raw your throat because he was part of your sexual awakening? 

“I’ll try to explain when I wake up. You won’t get it, though.” He rolled over onto his side, trying to get comfortable. He was vaguely aware of a sheet being draped over his body and the weirdly warm branch of the Entity brush his back as he closed his eyes. “Thanks” he murmured, and the creaking returned in his mind

It didn’t always understand, but it always enjoyed watching.

Danny supposed that made the Entity, Danny, and Michael all have something in common.


End file.
